


Calls Me On and On

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: For the Good Times (Shiro Week 2017) [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Memories, Non-Linear Narrative, Shiro Week 2017, Time/Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 10:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12768858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Shiro: Then and now





	Calls Me On and On

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Shiro Week, everyone!

Shiro stepped out of the shower, pushing his wet bangs out of his eyes. The steam rolled around him, and heavy droplets ran down from the tips of his hair to run down his back and shoulders. Making a face, he grabbed onto his towel and scrubbed it over his head, trying to get rid of the worst of the drips.

Stumbling over to the sink, he reached out with his left hand, wiping the steam away from the mirror. It left a wide streak, and Shiro rubbed his fingers against the cloth to get the extra moisture off his skin. Then he let the towel drop and looked at himself.

Scruffy. It took a while for him to start growing anything, which Shiro was thankful for. Shaving was a bother, both because he didn’t particularly like the feel and because it took so long to get every inch. Could he get away with it for one more day? Leaning forward, Shiro squinted at his chin, dark hair falling into his eyes.

It really was faint. If no one was paying that close attention to his face, he was probably fine. He rubbed his left hand over his chin, the rasp of stubble unpleasant against his palm. As Shiro leaned forward, the towel shifted, and dark, wet bangs spilled out, fanning over his eyes.

Not a bad look, actually. Shiro dropped the towel completely and ran the tips of his fingers through his hair until it fanned and spiked naturally. Not very military, but windswept. Like he’d been riding around on a bike without a helmet. Grinning, Shiro straightened and put on his best shining smile, the one he hoped would someday be seen on a return from an important mission.

Yeah, pretty damn good. No bruises or marks from training today, no hint of red from stress breakouts on his chin. Unblemished.

But still not military. So Shiro sighed and dug out his comb from his supplies and forced the strands on top back into proper place. Maybe one day soon he’d sneak back out to town and spend an evening having fun. He could wear his hair like that then. Today, he had to look good.

Today, he was going to talk to Iverson about applying for the Kerberos mission.

Technically, Shiro was barely supposed to know about it. But a few of the instructors had hinted that something was coming up, and the rumor mill and cornering Matt Holt had done the rest.

It was a long shot. It was a pathetically low chance, actually. Shiro was set to graduate with honors, having some of the highest flight scores the Garrison had ever seen. But that didn’t mean they’d give some green pilot the most historic mission of the next fifty years.

Kerberos. Pluto. The farthest any would be in the solar system.

And Shiro could be the one flying it. But he needed to play his cards right, and that included looking the part.

…So, yes, he should shave.

Dammit.

With a sigh, Shiro pulled out his kit and spread shaving cream onto his fingers, just as his roommate’s alarm went off for the first time. He’d hit snooze at least twice more, so Shiro had twenty minutes to get ready for the day.

Smearing the cream on, Shiro shot one more of his best dazzling smiles at the mirror.

He was going to do it. Or, at least, no one was going to say he hadn’t tried everything.

Even shaving.

***

Shiro stepped blearily out of the shower, impatiently pushing his bangs out of the way. They had gotten longer now, and he really needed to cut them back, but he hadn’t found the time. Instead, the strands curled, the perfect length to press uncomfortably against his eyelids. Shiro groped on the wall until he found the right button, and a blast of air filled and swirled through the room. When it finished, Shiro was damp, but no longer dripping wet. Getting ready for the day would do the rest.

When Shiro opened his eyes, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was habit more than need, and neither of the Alteans understood why the humans liked to have them. The air drying system was faster and more effective. But it was a comfort item. Shiro felt better having it over his shoulders than just walking around bare.

Besides, that was the rule. Always bring your towel into space.

(Pidge had been the only one to laugh at that joke. Even Hunk hadn’t caught the reference. Shiro would have to deal with the disappointment.)

Stepping over, Shiro paused at the hazed over mirror. He raised his right hand, then hesitated.

When the glass was fogged over, Shiro couldn’t see his face.

That was the point, but, well…

Sighing, he shook his head and ran his hand over. The metal palm scraped slightly, a noise that made Shiro’s skin crawl, and but it did the job. There was a fat stripe across the mirror where Shiro could see his face instead of a pale blob.

Immediately, Shiro’s lips pulled down. He looked awful with his messy hair and the bright marks cutting across his face. Worse, he could see the hint of a shadow around his chin.

Not very paladin-like.

Leaning forward, Shiro tilted his chin out, trying to tell if he could put it off for another day. It looked awful, but it might not be obvious to anyone else, especially when he was wearing the armor. Or maybe it would be. Running his right fingers along the skin, Shiro crinkled his nose as the rasp of the short hairs. Eugh. His scar warped and rippled at his nose, so he dropped the expression. It highlighted and brought attention to the wrinkles on his nose, making him look more like a snarling dog than an annoyed person.

He should shave. Shiro didn’t want to walk out of here and look raggedy in front of Allura and Coran. It was just unprofessional.

Reaching for the shaving cream, Shiro finally straightened and started to apply it. As he did, the mirror continued to naturally clear, and he could see more and more of his skin in detail. The bite mark on his shoulder, the puncture wound between his pecks, the multitude of slashes and claw marks and knotted, ugly skin. The top of his prosthetic, and where it met gnarled flesh, the dancing, discolored marks like lightning or tree branches that radiated up it.

Shiro swallowed hard, stomach flipping. He grabbed the end of his towel and rubbed his chin, getting off the shaving cream.

He’d be alright. One more day would be fine.

Shiro could deal with looking at this tomorrow.

***

Knocking on the door, Shiro took a quick, deep breath. On the other side of the door, he faintly heard Iverson call, “come in.”

Now or never.

Shiro stepped inside and stood politely, not at proper attention but definitely respectful. “We had an appointment, Sir.”

Glancing up from his desk, Iverson narrowed his eye but nodded to the chair across from him. “We do. Have a seat, Shirogane.”

“Thank you.” He took it and kept his hands clenched tightly on his knees,so his legs wouldn’t bounce. All of him had to stay tense to keep from moving with the extra energy coursing through him. “I wanted some advice about where to apply after graduation.”

Iverson’s expression didn’t change an inch, though Shiro could have sworn his gaze got more intense. “Surely this is a question for your adviser and not for me.”

“I had that conversation already,” Shiro said. “But I would appreciate your point of view as well. I’m trying to come at this from a particular perspective.”

Still nothing, not even a blink. “What kind of perspective would that be?”

Shiro took a deep breath. “If you were looking me over as an applicant for a long term mission, what would your reservations be?”

There. Nothing exact, nothing that Iverson could point to and say Shiro definitely had knowledge he shouldn’t have. But the rumors were out there, and that was enough to get Iverson thinking in the right direction.

Leaning back, Iverson rested his hands in his lap and considered Shiro closely. “Inexperienced,” he finally said. “Would be my primary concern. Long term missions are almost always assigned by seniority, especially for the long-distance ones. Your scores are good, but you’ve haven’t proven yourself in the field, which is a different situation completely. You have a tendency to work off impulse rather than direction. That’s worked out for you, but it might not always, and a long term trip with lives on the line is not the place to test that. You work well in your peer tasks, but you have a tendency to try and take control of any group. On a mission where you’re not the commander, that could lead to internal issues. Which, again, is a problem in a long-term mission.”

It wasn’t as brutal as Iverson could have been. Shiro was a favored student, and that worked for him here. Even so, the less-than-glowing review had his stomach twisting. He didn’t want there to be any reservations. He wanted to be perfect for the job.

But, the reason he asked this was to make himself perfect. Shiro needed to know what to improve on.

“Understood. Thank you, Sir.” Shiro took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Is there anything I could do short-term to improve those chances?”

Iverson almost looked fond, if a little exasperated, as he straightened up. “At this exact moment? No. You need experience, and you won’t get that until you’ve graduated.” But then he paused, eyes sharp. “At least, not long term experience.”

“Sir?”

Pulling over some papers, Iverson considered, lips thin. “You’re adept with the Yiga model of craft, correct? Not just in the sims.”

Shiro paused, thinking about it. “Plenty in the sims, and I passed certification with them. I haven’t gone past atmo with them, though.”

“But you’ve physically flown one around Earth?”

Between DC and the Garrison, which was what the testing requirements were. But yes, yes he had. Shiro nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Iverson tapped a pen against his desk, gaze distant as he considered. “I won’t promise anything. But there’s a small flight coming up for restocking one of the moon bases. Nothing special, but it would be out of atmo, and it would be next month.”

The moon. Iverson was offering to let him go to the moon. Mind, thousands of people spent time there each year, mostly as tourists. But not nearly so many flew themselves, especially before official graduation. But Shiro was certified, and he was confident in his ability to manage such a short flight. “Whatever you think is best. But I’m capable of that.”

Iverson gave another nod, finally focusing his eye on Shiro again. “I wouldn’t offer it if you weren’t. You’ll be with an older pilot, so you’ll mostly be assisting.”

That figured. Even short flights tended to have a pilot and a co-pilot, if they were going past the atmosphere. Shiro had always known he was going to be playing a junior role on his first assignment - at least, any assignment worth having. But Iverson had said one of their worries was that he couldn’t keep to his role. This would be a good way of showing he could show initiative without overstepping.

“Of course, Sir. I’d be thrilled to help in whatever capacity you need for me.”

“No promises,” Iverson reminded. “This isn’t normally a position I’d offer before you graduate. But it would give you more experience on your resume.” His gaze got sharper, almost impish. “A completed mission would put you in a better position to apply for a four-month Titan mission.”

Shiro’s lips quirked up, unable to deny that had been his goal. There were a few of those a year, and each tended to be a long flight and a short stay. Perfect to be back in time to apply to other missions, but to still establish credentials.

Brows up, Iverson considered him. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“No, Sir,” Shiro replied. He stood, back straight and respectful. “I appreciate the help you’ve offered today, and whatever pans out over the next few weeks.”

Iverson waved him off, and Shiro left with a spring in his step and his eyes on the ceiling.

It was happening, and he was getting in position to take advantage.

Perfect.

***

“Ah, Shiro, thank you for coming.”

Shiro paused in the doorway to the command room, his back straight and respectful. “Of course, Princess.” There was still an hour before lunch, and he hoped for both their sakes what Allura wanted wouldn’t take long. “What can I help you with?”

Waving him over, Allura gestured to the star map in front of her. “There are several targets I’d like to hit in the coming days.” Three glowing points appeared at a gesture from her hand. “All three of them communicate to each other so extensively that I don’t feel comfortable taking them out one at a time. Each has unique challenges, so I’d like your opinion of who should be sent where.”

Tapping each of the spots, Shiro ran his eyes over the data on each. His Altean was still childish at best, but he’d picked up enough to help with what the castle’s translators didn’t manage. Three targets meant at least one person was going to be alone. Shiro’s immediate thought was to split Voltron horizontally - himself alone, Pidge and Keith together, Lance and Hunk the final team. It meant spreading their tech-specialists as best they could, and evened out experience levels.

As if Shiro really had that much. A couple of resupply missions, barely an evening’s jaunt, one successful long-term mission to Jupiter, then one decidedly less successful one.

The absurdity hit him, at all once. Shiro had stepped up into command of this group because there had been little other choice. No one else of the humans understood what they were getting into, not really. He was the Black Paladin, the de facto leader, picked for a set of traits rather than by actions.

Once, Shiro would have jumped through any set of hoops for that opportunity. A chance to be in charge without his inexperience in the way was all he wanted, one chance to prove he could do it as well as anyone.

Now, it was terrifying.

The set of circumstances that lead to Shiro here, picking out which cadets to send flying their specialized weapon ships on missions alone, and that Shiro was the deciding factor in those choices, was ridiculous.

Shiro wished someone could step in and say ‘I know what I’m doing, I’ve done it before, let me show you the ropes. You be the junior member, and I’ll command, if only for now.’

Not forever. Shiro couldn’t let go like that. But just for this moment, he would have done anything for a Commander to look over his work and tell him he was making the right call.

His right hand still hovered an inch from the projected screen as Shiro stared blankly at it.

“Are you alright?” Allura asked, her voice tightening as she stepped closer. “Did you remember something?”

No, Shiro remembered it already. He just realized why the chain of command existed, other than as a thorn to keep him from soaring as high as he would have liked.

Icarus, but Shiro’s wax wings were attached to a lion.

“I’m fine,” he finally replied, offering her a tight smile. “Sorry, just reading still.” Glancing through it one last time, Shiro opened his mouth-

Then stopped.

Maybe not.

“Lance and Hunk here,” he said, tapping on the far left communications base. “The atmosphere here will be bad for anyone but Blue to handle. I don’t think they’ll see much trouble that they can’t handle.” It was a tiny thing, and while Shiro still wasn’t totally comfortable letting those two go into combat alone, he thought they could handle half a dozen robots without much harm. Hunk could hit them all with one shot.

Allura nodded, unsurprised. “Agreed.”

This time, Shiro tapped on the center one. “Pidge and myself here. It’s the most likely to have the greatest number of combatants, and it handles the most data. If I can get her there without damaging any of the consoles, she might be able to get the information off their systems, rather than just shutting them down. I’m the best to watch her back there.”

This time, Allura’s brows rose as she considered Shiro. “That’s all reasonable. So Keith alone for the final one?” She glanced down, reading the information as well. “It has the strongest defense system.”

“It has the strongest attacks,” Shiro disagreed. “Not the strongest physical defenses. The Red Lion can go there with the castle. He’ll be able to draw fire safely, and you can decloak and take them out.”

It was the best distribution of labor. And Keith would be able to handle the job without back-up. He was more than qualified for what might have been too much for someone else. It made Shiro uncomfortable to ask it, but it was simply the best option.

Shiro thought back to Iverson in that meeting right before graduation, where he’d first offered Shiro the chance to fly basic restocking missions to the moon. He remembered the awe and excitement that he’d been let in early, that he was trusted with something real, even if it was small.

That had been only a few years ago, but it was time for Shiro to pass the feeling along.

He only wondered if Iverson was as terrified as Shiro felt. If he looked at this mission and thought ‘what if something goes wrong?  What if I’ve sent a cadet into something he’s not ready for?’

What if the defenses were better than their intel said? What if the Red Lion was hit, and he went down without another lion’s maneuverability to help him? What if he wasn’t ready, and Shiro had given an order that would hurt him? Or worse.

Shiro knew Keith could do it, but it was still terrifying to let it happen when Shiro could keep him safe.

But this was an ideal starter solo mission. And Shiro trusted Keith. Trusted all of them, really.

“That sounds reasonable,” Allura finally agreed, hands folded sedately in front of her. She eyed Shiro shrewdly. “I think this is a wise choice.”

Glancing over, Shiro’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and his posture unfolded into a more casual lean. “It is. This will work.”

Allura gave him a fond look, her own formality melting away for a moment. “You worry. I do too. There is still much for them to learn.”

“But they don’t learn unless we give them chances to,” Shiro agreed, nodding. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was on the tip of his tongue to confide in her. To tell Allura how much this job scared him.

What could she do about it, though? What would she offer that would help? Shiro still had to make these calls. At worse, she might wonder if he was truly suited to being the Black Paladin.

So instead he offered her a nod of his head, nearly a bow. “Was there anything else you needed, Princess?”

Allura eyed him, as if she could see everything he’d been thinking about anyway. “No, that was all I wanted. Your plan was slightly different from mine, but I think we’ll go with yours. Thank you for your help.”

So if this went wrong, it really was all on Shiro.

A bad mentality to have. Keith could handle this. He would, and he’d outdo all of Shiro’s expectations in the process, because that’s what Keith did.

“Of course, You’re welcome. I’ll see you at lunch, then?”

Allura nodded to him, eyes already back on the screen. On another day, Shiro might have stayed and spoken with her more the next few goals. But-

Not right now. Not this minute.

Instead, Shiro murmured out his goodbyes and headed down a few floors.

He could use running a few laps to clear his head.

Then, lunch.

***

Shiro kept his hands carefully on the controls, heart in his throat.

When he’d said he was proficient in the Yiga class ships, he’d been thinking of the state-of-the-art simulations and newer models the Garrison used for training.

Not this.

The supply ship Yue was several generations back, and there was a noticeable lag between command and action. Nothing too long, nothing outright dangerous, but enough to make Shiro aware this was an older ship, and that there was that much more danger if something went wrong.

Even so, the surface of the moon loomed, gray and pockmarked. The runway was as straight as they could manage, despite the curvature.  Just visible beyond the horizon was the sparkling of electric lights.

The moon. They were really on the moon.

Shiro’s fingers shook slightly on the handles, his pulse thumping in his ears. The ship was a bit of a disappointment, but the actual flying wasn’t.

Looking over, Lt. Commander Rodriguez quirked up a smile. She had seemed, at most, amused at Shiro’s formality and suppressed enthusiasm. It couldn’t be very fun for her, to have to babysit a cadet during what should have been a standard mission. But Shiro had done his best to be professional and helpful, without taking over. Knowing his place. Not jumping ahead.

Swallowing hard, Shiro made sure only to watch Rodriguez from the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to be caught staring or looking inattentive. His heads stayed steady and his face neutral, all under as careful control as his part of the controls.

Shiro needed a glowing review. He needed to have this experience and this little leg up, because this was step one in a series of dominoes. If it fell wrong, there went all his plans. There went Kerberos.

But Rodriguez leaned back, relaxing slightly in her hair. “You want to prep for landing?”

Starting, Shiro finally faced her properly. “Me?” Then, remembering himself, he straightened and nodded. “If you’d like, Lt. Commander.”

From the set of Rodriguez’ jaw, she was trying not to roll her eyes at him. Fine. Shiro would take being a stick in the mud or too formal instead of being obnoxious or coming across like an idiot cadet.

“At least get us started,” Rodriguez replied, flapping a hand at him. “I’ll radio in for us. If you can keep steady, you can go ahead and land once we have the green light.”

Landing on the moon.

One small step for mankind, one giant leap for Takashi Shirogane.

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a last nod, Rodriguez pulled out the blocky headset and began to talk. “This is Yiga ship Yue with the supplies for sector Charlie. We are requesting permission to land.”

“Hey, Rodriguez,” an easy voice replied. They sounded distracted but friendly. “Got here a little faster than scheduled, huh?”

Glancing over at Shiro again, Rodriguez waggled her brow. “I have a co-pilot, made it easier. You need us to wait on anyone?”

“Nah, it’s the off season here, so most of the traffic is over in Echo. You can go ahead and come in.”

Time to land, then.

Shiro prepared the ship in nearly a daze, barely able to hear over the pounding in his ears. But his hands stayed perfectly steady as he flicked the appropriate switches and waited for the ship to react. The delay felt even worse now, as the endorphins kicked in further, but soon the wheels where out and the thrusters were shifted to aim forward instead. Vectors appeared on screen, showing Shiro where to land, and he made the minute adjustments to match it. He’d been nearly dead on, because he’d done this exact simulation several hundred times.

“How are you feeling?”

Swallowing, Shiro glanced over at Rodriguez. “Prepared for landing, Lt. Commander.”

This time, she gave in and fully rolled her eyes. “Alright, then, take her in.”

With a deep breath, the only outside sign of Shiro’s nerves, he pushed the controls forward and engaged back thrusters to reduce speed.

Between that moment and when the Yue came to a complete stop, Shiro was pretty sure he didn’t breathe at all.

“And there you go,” Rodriguez said, grinning. She unbuckled and stretched, groaning. “This is your first time here?”

Shiro nodded, still staring at the screen and trying to process that he’d just landed on the goddamn moon. “It is.”

“Go ahead and skip out, then.”

Blinking, Shiro turned to look at her. “I’m sorry?”

Rodriguez tilted her head to the left, indicating something Shiro couldn’t see. “I’m sure you want to go to the memorial, right?”

Numbly, Shiro nodded. Of course he did. The original moon landing spot was the first non-Earth human monument. It was beyond historic.

“So go on. I can unload this. I do it once a month.”

“I couldn’t,” Shiro managed, despite the twinge of painful desire in his chest. “I should finish the job with you.”

Rodriguez snorted. “Kid, you did fine. I’m already going to give you a good write up. Take advantage of some good will. Do you need it to be an order?”

Still feeling lightheaded, Shiro gave a tiny nod.

“For- that was sarcasm, Cadet. Fine. I order you to go have fun. Take a picture of the pale blue marble or whatever you want to do. Enjoy, alright?” Rodriguez snapped up the headset again. “Hey, Liu, go ahead and send the team out to help collect.”

“On their way.”

Shiro started to stand, then was cut short as he realized he’d never unbuckled. He did so, fighting and losing against a blush. “I- thank you. For letting me land. And the memorial.”

Softening, Rodriguez moved over and clapped Shiro on the shoulder. “You’re doing fine. Don’t worry so much, okay? Take a breather, and maybe on the way back we can actually have a conversation. It’s a lot more fun than staring holes into the controls.”

Blushing harder, Shiro pulled on his helmet and smiled through the glass. “I’ll try.”

“Atta boy.” Rodriguez knocked on the top of the helmet, hard enough to make Shiro’s ears ring. “Go on, before someone sees you and makes you do hard labor.”

With a quick salute, more joking than real, Shiro made for the decompression chamber. Right before he took that last step, he paused.

Then he grinned, foot out. “One small step for man…”

“Your comm unit is still on, Cadet.”

Shiro lost his footing and nearly fell off the stairs. Only a quick snatch of the nearest handle kept him from falling (if more slowly than normal.)

In his helmet, Shiro could hear Rodriguez laughing hard, clearly enjoying flustering him.

Well, now his pride was a little bruised, but Shiro still grinned.

Then he leapt, and let the low gravity slowly lower him to his first step on the moon.

***

Gripping hard on the controls, Shiro took a deep breath, then let it out.

Around him, the Black Lion rumbled, presence filling the cockpit and the inside of Shiro’s chest.

The battle raged outside. They were outnumbered several dozen to one. Each of the little fighter drones weren’t much, but together they formed a swarm that threatened to take the lions down individually. But there was never enough of a break to form Voltron, and there were so many that they would be more effective as several rather than one.

There was a twitch in Shiro’s mind before there was a flash on his screen. He was already rolling to the side when an enemy ship careened forward, which then smashed into another incoming drone.

“I’ve got three on my tail,” Pidge called, her teeth audibly grinding together. On screen, the Green Lion zipped from side to side, avoiding fire as best it could. Several ships followed after, not gaining but refusing to be shaken.

Shiro started to turn, but there was a roar over the comms as Yellow crashed through, headbutting clean through one of the tails.

“I got you,” Hunk called. “And- woah!” He twisted, getting Yellow’s feet under him just before he crashed into one of the mother ships. “I also got me. Whoops.”

“Nice safe,” Shiro called, turning and firing with Black’s tail laser. It missed once, but then destroyed three targets one right after the other. “Everyone, stay focused and watch each other’s back. If we can thin out this group, we can form Voltron and end this.”

Lance scoffed. “Easier said than done.” He ducked down fast, spiraling below one of the warbirds and letting the drone’s fire hit that. Then he arched back up and over, until he could head back to the group.

“I hate to say it, but we can’t keep this up,” Keith agreed, voice strained. “Eventually, one of them is going to get lucky.”

“Or we’ll be unlucky,” Pidge offered darkly.

There was a burst of fire, terrifyingly close, before Allura’s face popped up on Shiro’s feed. “We’re firing as much as we can, but our shields won’t hold out forever. Something needs to change or else-” She paused, visibly jerking as if nearly thrown off her feet. “What was that?”

“The shields,” Coran reported, a touch of horror in his voice. “They’re not just firing. They’re flying into it. We can’t-” They were cut off again, and this time Shiro could see the background jerking as the ship jolted. “We can’t handle much of that. What are they doing?”

Alright, now was a time for a better plan.

Swallowing, Shiro pulled up sensor readings of the nearby space, then set his jaw. “I’m going to try and draw as many of them to me as possible. Shoot them while they tail.”

“Shiro?” Lance’s brows rose on the feed. “How’s that a good plan? We need you and the Black Lion to form Voltron, remember?”

Unable to help it, Shiro gave just a hint of a vicious smile. Maybe he should have been better and kept his expression neutral, but-

Well, Shiro’s heart was pounding, because he didn’t need to be reserved right now. He only needed to be good.

“I’m going to out fly them.”

With that, he shot off, twisting through the ranks of the drones and just barely avoiding several. Black was big and defensive, but didn’t have the armor that let Yellow take blowing through ships like they were made of paper. Still, it was enough to catch their attention, especially when he started to fly in tight circles around the castle’s shields. He fired on any that looked like they were trying to make a suicide run, and soon they were more interested in him than smashing into the force field.

Keith’s brow furrowed behind the glass of his helmet. “I hope you know what you’re doing, here.” But Red was already falling into position, tailing just far enough behind to firing on the slowly growing mass behind Shiro when he had a clear shot.

Of course not. Shiro never knew what he was doing, not really. He guessed and reworked on the fly.

But flying was something Shiro could do.

Making a beeline for the moon, Shiro as close to the surface as he could. Black’s paws tucked up,  separated from the uneven rock by mere feet. The ground shifted below him, raising and lowering with old craters and natural formations.

Shiro could fly at this level, even if it was ridiculously dangerous.

The drones could not.

As they tried to get behind him to lock on, they couldn’t focus on the lion and avoid the rocks at the same time. One by one, they started to crash into the ground, sending up dust and debris behind Shiro. The moon was small, even more so than Earth’s, and Shiro was able to loop around in mere seconds. Which meant the more ships he ran down, the more he had to avoid-

And the more the other drones had to dodge, too. Soon, they weren’t just hitting rocks and valleys. They were hitting the jutting wings and chunks of the other ships.

On any ship from Earth, this wouldn’t have been possible. That little bit of lag, that second of reaction time, would have made this too dangerous.

But Black and Shiro were bonded. There was no wait between sensor, then screen, then Shiro’s eyes, then Shiro’s muscle. There was just reaction, from Black’s eyes to Shiro’s hands.

Up, down, left, left, right, down, up, right, left, up.

Distantly, he could hear the others talking, calling and responding as they took out the enemy ships that didn’t crash. But Shiro felt like he was listening from underwater.

He was going to protect them. Protect his pride, both the organic and the metallic.

Shiro and Black both were, because in this moment, there was no real difference between them.

Right, left, down, down, left, up, down, right, up _upup._

Shiro curved up and away from the planet, Black tucking into a smooth roll and already preparing a laser blast before they’d fully turned. The line of tails had no chance to move out of the way before Black’s fire caught them. The ones closest blew first, then the next several, in a rippling line before leaving a new furrow in the moon.

Panting, Shiro came back to himself with a start. His hands were still steady, but the rest of him was shaking with adrenaline.

Only for a new alert to pop up on his screen.

“Shiro!” Pidge called. “They have a lock on you, move!”

But the drones were so thinned, who-

The war birds.

Shiro and Black whirled, unable to do anything but stare down the glowing canon about to unleash hell on them.

Only for a new streak of light to crash into the side of the ship, jarring the whole thing to the side. It fired, and the shot went wild, missing Black by just a few meters.

“Thank you for your help,” Allura called, a smirk to her lips and her eyes bright, even on camera. “I’m glad we could return the favor.”

Shiro let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. It felt like he hadn’t breathed since he started flying around that moon. “I appreciate it. Good shot.”

“Of course!” Coran agreed proudly.

“Hey, I’m all for mutual congratulations and no one dying, but I think Voltron would be good right now,” Hunk reminded.

Right.

Shiro nodded. “Good call. Form Voltron!”

As they all came together, Shiro could feel Black’s purr in his chest like a second heartbeat. He agreed with the sentiment completely. It reminded him of the first step he’d taken on Earth’s moon, where his huge step had been just a touch too slow. Not quite weightless, but very close too it. Almost like flying without a ship.

Every time Shiro had flown before, he’d been totally in control. His hands didn’t shake, his voice was steady, his expression was neutral.

With Black, none of that was true. There was a push and pull, no longer just Shiro’s hands and mind, but his lion, too.  Give and take.  A constant conversation, so quick and understanding it was like speaking to himself.

Trust.

Tightening his grip on the levers, Shiro smiled.

He’d take this any day.

Shiro leaned back into the connection let himself fall.

***

Shutting the door behind him, Shiro let out a long sigh.  His little one room apartment was normally oppressively small, but today his bed felt a hundred miles away, rather than a couple dozen feet.

Worse, the air was stale and cold, the result of leaving his heating off while he was on his mission.  Stumbling over, Shiro poked at the thermostat, cranking up the temperature until he could hear the old unit kick in.  The smell of it was stale, but that would clear within a few hours.  It always stank when he started the heat up when fall hit.  This was just a later start than normal.

Four months.  Five, actually, since he’d been home.  7 weeks of traveling, 2 weeks on Titan, and then another 7 flying back, only to be followed by nearly a month of quarantine.

The first thing Shiro had done on getting out was greeting Keith and asking him about his classes.

The second thing Shiro had done was to go to the nearest fast food restaurant and get the greasiest, biggest, most heart-attack causing burger he could get, along with two large orders of fries.  Because freeze dried food had gotten old once he wasn’t buying it from corny museums anymore.

The third thing Shiro had done was to come home to the empty apartment, kept in stasis while he left.  A not insignificant portion of his salary went to paying the rent and keeping it sprayed for bugs and other pests once every two weeks.

Somehow, Shiro had expected this to feel triumphant.  Comfortable.  Like coming home.  He’d get his own bed, his own pillows, as many blankets as he wanted.  He could go on a run if he pleased, could go out and look at the stars without needing a thick suit on.  Shiro could just be.

But this wasn’t warm and freeing.  It was cold and dark.

Shiro cast a forlorn look at his closed bedroom door.  It would be neatly made, like he’d left it.  His few knickknacks would be carefully stacked on the shelves and his desk.  The walls would be bare, because Shiro had never bothered to put up any decorations.

Instead, he took several steps, dropped his luggage onto the floor, and collapsed onto the couch.

Groping blindly, Shiro pulled the throw off the back and threw it over himself, curling into it.  It was just as chilled as the rest of his apartment, but it warmed quickly from his body heat.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to leave Keith.  At the time, he’d been starved and ready to go home and sleep in his own bed.  But the silence rang where it hadn’t in the Garrison or in the fast food joint.

Shiro closed his eyes hard, and tried to will sleep into overtaking him.  He was exhausted, physically and mentally.

But the silence was so loud it felt like his ears were ringing.

For a moment, Shiro considered calling Keith, or checking in with the Garrison.  For one crazed moment, he even considered calling his family and checking in.  He should after all. He’d been gone for five months.

He’d gone longer than that without talking to them, though.

Closing his eyes, Shiro pulled his phone out of his pocket.  His wi-fi was off until he called to set it back up, but he also hadn’t used any of his service data, so he pulled up a video online without guilt.  Then he turned the volume up as loud as it would go and let it play.

Like that, it almost sounded like there were people in the room.

How pathetic was that?

Curling up tighter in his blanket, Shiro turned around so he was facing the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

This time, sleep took him, merciful and quick.

***

Landing in the Black Lion, Shiro took a deep breath, then stepped out of the cockpit.  In the back of his mind, he could feel the lion’s purring continued, pleased with the day’s events.  The battle had been hard, but they’d won, and everyone had come back safely.  Besides that, it had been a good bonding experience, for them to spend such a long period of the fight so closely linked.

Shiro let his affection lap gently back through the link, amused at Black’s open pleasure.  It had been a fun flight, even if the lead up hadn’t been nearly so enjoyable, and he was glad to feel his connection with the lion strengthen.

When he finally walked out, Shiro wasn’t leaving Black.  The presence was still strong, hovering in the back of his mind.

He didn’t even make it to the hallway before the door burst open and Lance practically sprinted through. “You have to show me how you did that!”

Laughing, Shiro held his hands up, keeping a paltry barrier between himself and Lance’s energy and enthusiasm.  He was still feeling a little delicate from the thrill of it all, and the scare at the end.  

But it was still nice, to been greeted like this.  Lance’s energy was infectious, pulling a grin out of Shiro when he otherwise might have stayed professional.

“I will,” he promised.  “There’s not much to show, though.  It was from bonding closely with Black rather than anything I’ve learned.”

Stepping through the door to the hanger more sedately, Hunk offered Shiro a bland smile.  “So you’re not going to test us on that?”

Shiro snorted.  “Well,  wasn’t going to, but now the idea is in my head.”

“I take it back,” Hunk immediately denied, shaking his head hard enough to make the tails of his headband snap.  “I didn’t say anything.  You misheard.  What are you even talking about?”

Affection welled in Shiro.  On impulse, he reached out and ruffled Hunk’s hair, just to mess up his bangs.  “I believe you can do it, so long as you’re working together with Yellow.  It’s not that much harder than ramming into them.”

“Yeah it is,” Hunk disagreed.  “I don’t have to do anything but get in their way, and then they destroy themselves on me.  Done.”

“Can we do lion bonding exercises tomorrow?” Lance asked.  “With flying.  Try it out, now that we’ve seen it.”

Groaning, Pidge stepped through the door next.  “Don’t even talk about training right now,” she complained.  

“Bonding would at least be light after today,” Shiro offered, smiling at her exhausted, trudging steps.  “And it would help if you get tailed like that again, to be able to maneuver tighter.”

Lance nodded, nose in the air.  “It’s for the good of the universe, Pidge.  We have to do cool flips and tricks and run drones into moons.  Such a hard life.”

From Pidge’s exhausted glare, she was about to make Lance’s life that much harder.

“How about we think about that tomorrow,” Shiro finally offered, gesturing for them all to head back into the hallway.  “For now, I think we could all use food and rest.”

Keith started to walk in, but then backed out as the whole group nearly crashed into him.  “Dinner sounds good,” he said, falling easily into step next to Shiro.  Absently, Shiro reached out and squeezed his shoulder, and got a smile in return, even if it was a little strained at the edges.

Likely, he was a little rattled from that near miss at the end.  Keith would want to hear about how Shiro had reacted like that, too, and he’d want to jump into bonding training just as fast as Lance.  But that could be later.

They met the Alteans on the way to the dining hall, and soon the room was filled with noise.  On one side of Shiro, Lance eager recounted the highlights of the battle to Coran, while Pidge and Hunk discussed the best way to get a food dispenser installed into their shared lab. On the other side, Keith and Allura talked about the next target to clear of Galra presence and why.

Tucking into the bowl in front of him, Shiro closed his eyes and let the conversation wash over him.  He liked the chatter, despite being relatively quiet himself.  It filled the room, and reminded him he wasn’t alone.  This wasn’t a Galra cell, it wasn’t a claustrophobic tin can of a ship, and it wasn’t a tiny, cold apartment.

Shiro was with his family.

A nudge to his side startled Shiro, making his eyes fly open.  He gripped his spork tight, and found Lance staring up at him expectantly.

“Sorry, I was distracted.  You were saying?”

Lance huffed, but he obligingly repeated.  “You get to pick the movie tonight after your MVP stunt.  What are you in the mood for?”

Shrugging, Shiro tapped his spoon against the side of his bowl.  “Anything, honestly.  You really want to watch a movie and not crash?”

“Just one,” Hunk offered, his grin wry.  “I’d really like to come down before I start dreaming, you know?”

Shiro understood completely.

“Something animated,” he finally offered.  “Nothing heavy.”

Humming thoughtfully, Pidge chewed her mouthful of goo.  “Does Pixar count as heavy?”

That was… Pixar was Disney, right?  That’d do.  “Not really.”

“Do you have Up?” Keith asked.  

Pidge nodded.  “Sure.  You like that one?”  When Keith nodded, she tilted her head at Shiro in askance.

Honestly, if Keith liked it, that was good enough for Shiro.  He nodded agreeably.

About half an hour later, wrapped in a blanket and bundled on the couch between several other bodies, Shiro gaped at the screen. “I said nothing heavy,” he managed.

“You said Pixar was fine,” Hunk pointed out, openly amused.

Jaw set mulishly, though it was mostly joking, Shiro huffed and curled up tighter in his blanket.

Despite his objections, Shiro found himself slumping back against the couch, exhaustion tugging his eyelids down.  He was warm, surrounded by life.  By family.

There was nowhere he’d rather be.

When sleep took him, it was slow and gentle.


End file.
